the SCOOP in the SNOOP!
by etakkate
Summary: Two weeks after the D'devil in the Mold, Booth stumbles onto a small collection of Brennan's poems.  How does he react?  Will it be a catalyst for change?  Angst/Romance/Poetry, now just FLUFF!  Chapters may stand alone as one shots.  Please enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, Hello! I have not seen the last couple of episodes so I am just going off reviews. From what I can gather (Spoilers!), Booth proposed, Blondie said no and then her threw the ring and the box into the reflecting pool? If that is incorrect then I apologise but for the sake of this fic it is the case. Also, for the sake of this fic, Parker still has enrichment classes with Max.**

**Now, I know that most of you aren't into poetry. Well, sorry but this one has poetry in it. They are poems from my other story that I will delete off my profile but you may have read. I originally posted them as a diary/journal entry system but have decided to encorporate them into a fic. **

**I am really quite nervous about doing this - particularly because the poetry did not get a good response. So, please, if you like it - let me know, if you don't like it then you're also welcome to leave constructive critisism. I really do appreciate your input.**

**Thank you reading and please enjoy! **

**Bones is not mine**

Temperance Brennan was at her usual spot – completely absorbed in the scrutiny of a clean set of remains. From where he stood at the glass entrance to the lab, Booth shook his head at how unaware of her surroundings she was.

Swiping his card through the platform's security, it wasn't until he was beside her that she noticed him.

"Booth! What are you doing here?"

A slight blush crept over her cheeks and did not go unnoticed. "What? We're working on a case, Bones, can't I check up on the squint development?"

"Lately, Booth, your communication with the team has been conducted via telephone or internet. Your presence in the lab has been infrequent since your return from Afghanistan." Her brows creased, "Besides, we do not have anything further to add to our last report. Science cannot be rushed, Booth."

He diverted his gaze with an awkward shrug, "Yeah, well, I also came to pick up Parker. It's his day with Max."

Disappointment flickered briefly through her eyes before her guard re-assembled, "Oh... I haven't seen him yet... normally he comes and visits me when he has completed his lesson."

Brennan checked her watch with confusion.

"I'm a little early. Listen, I gotta borrow your computer to send some attachments, save me having to go back to the Hoover with Parks?" He waved a USB stick in front of him in explanation.

"Yes, of course." She turned back to her examination of the bones, "Use the laptop in my office – it's already on."

"Ok. Thanks Bones."

oOoOo

Sliding into his partner's hoity toity, leather-bound excuse for an office chair, Booth brushed his finger over the touchpad and plugged in his USB stick, bringing the screen to life. Just as he was about to open the email browser, an icon on her desktop caught his eye.

Unable to resist his curiosity, he opened the file _The Journey in the Journal_ and clicked onto the first document. Expecting to get a glimpse of her most recent novel, his interest piqued even more so when he found himself reading verse...

_It's been two months and now I wonder,_

_If you're safe or if you're scared._

_My mind begins to wander,_

_Over what it was that we once shared._

_..._

_I'm torn between two variables,_

_Could it be as simple as you say?_

_Heart and brain, Bones – heart and brain,_

_Could it really be that way?_

His heart suddenly constricted momentarily, followed by a crescendo of guilty thumps as he recognised what it was that he had stumbled upon. Before his conscious mind could stop him, Booth copied and pasted the whole file onto his USB drive, closed the document and slammed the lid of her computer shut.

Willing his heart to slow its thunderous tempo, he sat contemplatively frozen for what could have been minutes before laughter filtered through his shocked daze.

"That's so cool! So what do you do with the bugs when they've eaten everything off the bones? How long does it take for them to eat up a person? If _I_ held them would they try and eat me too even though I am alive? How come they don't leave little buggy bite marks?" Parker's voice was excited and full of curiosity.

Booth pocketed the stick before rushing out to join the excitement.

"Hey Max. Hey Bud! Whatdya learn today?" Booth chuckled lightly trying to cover his nervous tension.

"Refection and refraction."

"That sounds exciting. How about you tell me about it in the car?" Booth made a grab for Parker's backpack and hurried his son to the stairs of the platform.

"But, Dad! What about Bones and Uncle Max? We always go for milkshakes after class!" with a mumble, he clarified, "...well... we _used_ to."

"Yeah, next week, Parker, I promise. Right now, Bones has a case to solve and your mum wanted you back earlier today so you can get packed for school camp."

Parker sighed and rolled his eyes with childlike drama, "Ohh-kay! Seeya Bones. Seeya Uncle Max."

oOoOo

Not until after midnight, after he had dampened his burning conscience with liquid confidence did Booth finally get to open his computer. As he sat on his couch in the dark, waiting for it to turn on, Booth struggled to calm the nervous rhythm of his heart.

He knew that, by all standards, this was wrong but, given how far out of control the whole situation had gone, it couldn't make him any worse a man than he already was.

The truth of the matter was that this whole Hannah thing had snowballed. What has started out as a random breach of his morality, a momentary lapse of self control – an adrenalin fuelled, fig tree shadowed tryst in the desert, had then existent on the basis of obligation and duty.

Not that Hannah was an obligation. Nor was Hannah a consolation prize. She just was _never meant to happen_ in the first place. On a subconscious level, Booth knew that, initially, he was simply using her to allay the anger, resentment and feelings of rejection that had consumed him in Afghanistan; the anger that was only exacerbated by Brennan's lack of contact.

Booth knew that it was purely sex. His moral conscience justified it by making it something it wasn't and he was just too proud to admit it. So, it snowballed. Then he simply resigned himself to his fate. He reasoned he had made his bed – he may as well go ahead and sleep in it.

Over time his conscience was deadened and desensitised. After all, she certainly was easy on the eye and easy to love, easy to flaunt and easy to validate. She was pretty _easy_ all 'round, really.

His little live-in living lie was going ok until Brennan's confession during the Eames case. But, once again pride got in the way and he couldn't simply admit Hannah for what Hannah really was, declare his shortcomings and make amends with the one who truly held his heart.

No, in a desperate attempt to avoid the guilt he knew would taunt him if he ended things the proper way, he proposed.

It was the old adage that if you lie once – you spend a lifetime lying to protect the original deception.

He knew that she wasn't the marrying type so, either _she_ would carry the burden of guilt for a breakup, or, if she had said "yes", he would accept the result of his choices and marry her. After all, that's what he had always wanted right – a wife?

Looking at it now, it was no wonder to him that he'd fallen on the crutch of alcohol. Turns out, his guilt was substantially more that if he had simply been honest. Every time his true intentions bubbled into his conscious thoughts, his natural reflex was to deaden them into oblivion.

So, here he was, sitting there with the computer in his lap, scotch is hand and a thousand thoughts running through his mind. Seeley Booth was not certain of what to expect.

Whether he wanted confirmation of Bones' feelings or justification for his, no one could know for sure. Perhaps he simply required ammunition with which to beat himself up in self hated lamentation.

Whatever the case, it would certainly serve as a catalyst for change and he knew there would be nothing with the strength enough to deaden the blow.

Like a gambler throwing control to the wind, Booth opened the first document.

oOoOo

_**Brain Vs Heart**_

_It's been two months and now I wonder,_

_If you're safe or if you're scared._

_My mind begins to wander,_

_Over what it was that we once shared._

_..._

_I'm torn between two variables,_

_Could it be as simple as you say?_

_Heart and brain, Bones – heart and brain,_

_Could it really be that way?_

_..._

_Could this battle deep within me._

_As ludicrous as it may seem,_

_Just be as simple as a metaphor?_

_Despite logic's frantic scream._

_..._

_I feel quite simply – tired,_

_Tired of deductive reason,_

_Tired of thinking hourly,_

_Of internal diatribes and treason._

_..._

_Tired of mulling over,_

_This __thing__ that remains all __**you.**_

_Despite our separation,_

_And that logic seems to skew,_

_..._

_Despite the text book reason,_

_Of chemicals and such._

_Despite the rational reasoning,_

_Behind a lover's touch._

_..._

_Despite the scientific,_

_Despite the simple fact._

_Despite the laws of physics,_

_That you claim you can retract._

_..._

_Despite the blazing obvious,_

_That I've held onto with stubborn grip._

_I feel that my beliefs on this,_

_Are slipping bit by bit._

_..._

_It's lonely here without you,_

_Though I am surrounded, yes it's true._

_I miss you more than my stupid pride,_

_Invades my field of view._

_..._

_I miss you enough to realise,_

_That despite what I had said,_

_I'm yours – all yours, in every way..._

_... I love you..._

_...there..._

– _it's said._

_..._

Booth sighed and placed the laptop beside him, bowing his head into his hands, _she loves me! she loves me! she loves me! she loves me! she loves me! _

Over and over like a rolling lit sign, the realisation coursed through his thoughts, desperately punctuated with his accelerated heart beat.

_she loves me! she loves me! she loves me! she loves me! she loves me! she loves me! she loves me! she loves me! she loves me! she loves me! _

_What_

_Have_

_I_

_DONE!_

The though – like a roadblock stopped the mantra in its tracks and he shook his head angrily.

He remembered his mother saying once as she covered her swollen cheek with makeup, "There's nothing that can't be fixed, Seeley, there is nothing that can't be fixed."

If only she were right.

Opening the next document, he noticed that it was dated two and a half months prior to the last.

oOoOo

_**If You Love Something Then Set it Free**_

_I was safe before you broke me,_

_I was wise within my enclosure._

_I could rely upon my customs,_

_Now I'm suffering exposure._

_..._

_You just __had__ to poke and goad,_

_And prod and make me __feel._

_You had to __pick__ and __push__ for more!_

_Why did you have to make this real?_

_..._

_You're an infuriating man!_

_What we were was so much more_

_Than a gamble played with a roll of dice,_

_Now tell me – what's the score?_

_..._

_Because now I'm stuck in limbo -_

_In a nightmare un-awoken._

_I'm stuck between a dream and truth -_

_Unfixable and broken._

_..._

_I'm fighting cognitive thought,_

_For a man whose thoughts are silent._

_For a man who professes __mystic powers_

_Of love so passionately violent._

_..._

_Foundations forged through necessity,_

_Shook right down to the core._

_What do you want from me Booth?_

_How __can__ I give you more?_

_..._

_You shook the very soul of me,_

_With your preaching good and righteous._

_But then you spun upon your heel,_

_Sprouting caveats dispiteous!_

_..._

_In the same breath as fifty years,_

_You were packed and moving on!_

_You said you knew – well I knew too!_

_But what can I rely upon?_

_..._

_So now we stand at crossroads,_

_And I wish I knew the way._

_Though my thoughts return to words of wisdom_

_And I think it's fair to say -_

_..._

_If you love something then set it free,_

_So, I request that we defer._

_If you return to me – you're meant for me,_

_If you don't – you never were._

_..._

_**Little Morticia**_

_What is it that you saw,_

_Back when you said you knew?_

_Did you see that little Morticia?_

_With her deathly eyes of blue?_

_..._

_Did you see the awkward teenager,_

_Who didn't know her place?_

_The one who'd hide in the toilet block,_

_Concealing tear tracked face?_

_..._

_Did you see the fostered weirdo,_

_- The boys heartlessly teased with hate?_

_Or did you simply see the smoke-screened me?_

_All proper, neat and straight._

_..._

_Cause if you did see that little girl,_

_So doubting of her heart,_

_You'd have told me I was worth it,_

_How did the centre break apart?_

_..._

His heart sank.

How did he screw things up so badly? For the fact that Booth knew his partner like no other, he had done a mighty fine job of reading her all wrong. It was as if he heard only the part where she had said "no."- ignoring all the other signs that indicated her true feelings and insecurities.

He shook his head at the fact that he was reading Brennan's thoughts – feeling deep regrets over their miscommunications and the oblivious _other_ woman that he had invited into his life.

What kind of a man had he turned into? Guilt gripped his gut as he downed a full glass of liquid courage before clicking onto the third document.

oOoOo

_**Clarity is Colourful**_

_In a world drenched in black and white,_

_Shadows start to bleed,_

_Windows disengage and lift,_

_The heavens hues are freed._

_..._

_Sunlight slices through the night,_

_Golden fingers tickle sallow,_

_Leaves blow colour over grey,_

_Whilst blossom pervades the shadow._

_..._

_Swift like Peregrine Falcon,_

_Diving for its kill,_

_Overwhelming, thick like water,_

_Permeating to its fill._

_..._

_Unnerving – yes; quite certain,_

_It's frightening more than all,_

_Yet I trust you have my allegorical back,_

_You'd never let me fall._

_..._

_And though I am but blinded,_

_By love's dazzle and its splendour,_

_No one else has stirred my soul so deep,_

_...You're the beginning,_

_...The middle..._

_...and the ender._

_..._

Despite his remorse, and perhaps due to the quick successive consumption of spirits, Booth smiled at the fact that his Bones wrote romantic poetry. The straight, literal, empiricist that was his beautiful partner was romantically inclined.

Booth cursed his shallow thoughts. Whatever he had believed, Temperance Brennan had loved his sorry excuse for a man. That beautiful woman had determined to give him a chance.

He decided to get through them quickly; like ripping a band aid off.

oOoOo

_**I Dreamt of You Last Night**_

_I dreamt of you last night,_

_Well, to be honest I dreamt of __us__._

_Although an indulgent fantasy,_

_I think I could adjust._

_..._

_It haunted me through consciousness,_

_Your passionate declarations,_

_The way my name rolled off your tongue,_

_That __line's__ obliteration._

_..._

_It terrifies me to think,_

_That we may not get the chance,_

_That our lives may be interrupted,_

_Removing prospect of romance._

_..._

_I'm getting to the point, though,_

_Where I can see your fifty years,_

_I'm getting to that hopeful peak,_

_Where I can see past deep set fears._

_..._

_It's as if I'm holding my breath,_

_Till I see you're safe and well._

_Right now we need our focus,_

_I'm sure you're going through metaphorical hell._

_..._

_So my silence, whilst may seem offensive,_

_Is merely for protection,_

_Silently thoughts are festering,_

_All this love, fear and apprehension._

_..._

_I'm sorting out my thoughts for you,_

_So I can give you what you need._

_I'm sure that by the time we meet,_

_By then we could proceed._

_..._

_I know you said you'd move on,_

_But if what you said that night was true,_

_Then you'd be dreaming at night of me,_

_Just as I dream of you._

_..._

Booth swiped at the tears that had made their way down his face. Yes, he had dreamt of her... every night... every day her face filled his thoughts. Every moment of discomfort, every moment of pain, every moment of hurt and, the worst – every moment of guilty, sinful pleasure – he dreamt of her.

How could he convince her of that now?

His entire belief system was now compromised. Everything that he claimed to believe and represent was tarred beyond repair.

He preached his faith God yet he lost his faith in _her_.

To him, it was unforgivable and nothing else mattered.

Ignoring the fact that he would have a hangover in the morning – relieved that it would be a Saturday; he pressed on.

oOoOo

_**As Serious As a Heart Attack**_

_As serious as a heart attack,_

_I agree I feel it __strong!_

_Cold cardiac constriction._

_My God! This is __so__ wrong!_

_..._

_Of course - what did I expect?_

_I'm a cold and heartless person!_

_Worthy of nothing near as much,_

_As _you_ – of that I'm certain!_

_..._

_Thank goodness for my childhood,_

_For conditioning me to cope,_

_With taunting empty promises,_

_With offers full of hope._

_..._

_But, Booth, I feel so empty,_

_So replaceable and worthless,_

_She's clearly more attractive,_

_Most certainly not as tactless._

_..._

_I wanted this, I wanted this!_

_You said that you'd move on,_

_Of course you had – quite easily,_

_To a symmetrical, structurally __flawless__ blonde!_

_..._

_I guess there's no competing,_

_So, I gracefully bow out._

_But dare she hurt you, I swear alive,_

_I'll skin her without a doubt!_

_..._

"Oh Bones."

Booth groaned, the guilt physically making him sick to his stomach.

It was as if he was coming off drugs.

He had been desensitised for so long that regaining his ability to feel was debilitating. He could not believe that Bones was feeling that way. It floored him that he was so numbed that he didn't realise the hurt she was feeling was exactly what he had gone through.

He felt completely floored.

oOoOo

_**The Blonde, The Thief, The Slayer**_

_There once was a "__hot__" blonde reporter,_

_Who was a thief – I know – I caught her!_

_She made out with my man!_

_Made off with my Bans!_

_And metaphorically crushed my aorta!_

_..._

Booth all but spat out his scotch and choked over a laugh.

He loved this woman – no question.

He knew she had many levels but, reading through her thoughts simply solidified what he had to do in the morning. Regardless of whether they had missed their moment, he still owed it to Brennan to be honest.

His heart belonged to Bones without caveat, without deception, without lies.

He had never truly been honest with her and he needed to resolve that.

Bringing the glass up to his lips, Booth smiled as he eyed the Ray Bans that were sitting lonely on his coffee table. For the last two weeks he had been aware of their being there but couldn't bring himself to touch them. They held a thick aura of presence - it seemed they were the only possession of Hannah's that she had left behind. Realising now why Hannah had left them, they became less like an elephant in the room and more like a simple comfort.

He read on, still smiling from the last poem...

oOoOo

_**Little Foetus**_

_Little foetus, well hello there!_

_Oh, this really is absurd!_

_Your mother wanted me to talk to you,_

_Though aware it'll go unheard._

_..._

_You see, I tried to explain to her,_

_That despite the fine intention,_

_If you were to even hear my voice,_

_You'd surely lack comprehension!_

_..._

_But, your mother, see, she's a dreamy soul,_

_An artist – there's none as fine._

_Colloquially – a breath of fresh air,_

_No greater friend I'd find._

_..._

_Genetically you're set to be,_

_Aesthetically quite proud,_

_And with what your Mummy's said to me,_

_Bout your Daddy – well endowed._

_..._

_Yes, physically, I'm sure you'll be,_

_An attractive little creature!_

_Though, more prominently, I can foresee,_

_Your foremost endearing feature:_

_..._

_Will be collectively, the qualities,_

_The solid, moral grounding._

_Your heritage is fully fledged,_

_Your parents – quite astounding._

_..._

_Your Mother – like a sister to me,_

_she's mighty awe-inspiring,_

_A wealth of wisdom, loving too,_

_Her affections never tiring._

_..._

_Your Father well, he's very smart,_

_But he's also quite astute._

_He loves your Mum with all his heart,_

_The way he looks at her is cute._

_..._

_Yes, statistically, you're set to be,_

_Successful in your debut._

_Despite the "pees" and "poohs" and baby "spew's"_

_I find I simply can't wait to meet you!_

_..._

Booth smiled, once again wondering why he was also crying. Perhaps it was that he could see her; gorgeously doubtful in his mind talking to Angela's baby. Perhaps it was the fact that she was meant to have _his_ baby. Perhaps it was because he so desperately wanted to share that with her – share the procreation of life with her.

He ran a hand over his face.

The night's revelations were simply exhausting. Overwhelmed with love, regret, remorse, guilt and outright affection, Booth was all but spent.

oOoOo

_**Iceberg**_

_Can I interest you in fact?_

_Though I am sure you're well aware,_

_Of all the mass of an iceberg,_

_Only a fraction's exposed to air._

_..._

_The rest is simply tucked away,_

_Hidden safe from view._

_That's the best analogy,_

_For my thoughts surrounding you._

_..._

_It's as if we've been conversing,_

_In the privacy of my mind._

_Though I wonder if you'd hear me out,_

_Or remain hurtfully disinclined._

_..._

_I wonder if you'd humour me,_

_Or simply roll your eyes._

_I'm not that socially inapt, Booth,_

_That I'd not recognise despise._

_..._

_I wonder if I should hold out hope,_

_For the partner I fell in love with._

_Or are you permanently transformed,_

_To this... __associate__ I work with._

_..._

_I love you, Booth, I do,_

_But with my lack of understanding,_

_I don't know if I should heal now,_

_It's all so disenchanting._

_..._

_I __hate__ you now that I love you!_

_An ironic oxymoron._

_Do I nip it in the bud now?_

_Do I consider myself forewarned?_

_..._

_Truth? I don't think that I could._

_I don't think that I should bother._

_Now that I've tasted what it's like,_

_You've ruined me for all others._

_..._

_So I think I'll sit here – patient,_

_I'll wait and try not to bitter,_

_Cause, Booth, if nothing else – I'm loyal..._

_...I'm yours now..._

_... and I'm __not__ a quitter!_

_..._

Booth remembered the "associate" introduction. He felt so uncomfortable saying it. He was, surprisingly relieved that she had noticed too. Re-reading the last verse granted him a flicker of hope.

One document left, he held his breath, realising that it was dated just a week ago.

oOoOo

_**Prepare Me**_

_Do you know how much you're worth, Booth?_

_I don't believe you really do._

_Because you continue to self sabotage,_

_The relationships you pursue._

_..._

_I know that may sound callous,_

_- Hypocritical in the least._

_But even if it's only to myself,_

_My frustrations must be released._

_..._

_It's not out of criticism,_

_That it's said – no, not at all._

_It simply breaks my heart, Booth,_

_That you feel so beat and small._

_..._

_You're such a loving man,_

_Brave, loyal and valiant._

_You're a hero - true to the word,_

_Chivalrous and gallant._

_..._

_You possess qualities far superior,_

_I have met none a man so fine._

_Yet when your relationship rules aren't followed,_

_To your whim, then you resign._

_..._

_You see, as much as this is to reassure you,_

_Of your value as a mate._

_It also serves to help me heal,_

_From OUR pre-concluded fate._

_..._

_You really sprung it on me Booth,_

_After years of your self-drawn line,_

_And as much as I knew I wanted you,_

_What I needed more was time._

_..._

_For as much as I was at fault,_

_For doubting that I was "the one."_

_You backed out mighty quickly, Booth,_

_With the threat of moving on._

_..._

_And moving on you did,_

_Which is great – she was such a find._

_But, does it truly matter,_

_That she's not the marrying kind?_

_..._

_If what you said is true –_

_You were in love, isn't that the crux?_

_Is it really worth bowing out cause_

_She won't agree to a white dress and tux?_

_..._

_You have this sweet fixation,_

_On the perfect little life._

_If only you can get yourself,_

_The perfect little wife._

_..._

_But you look past what's in front of you,_

_You conclude you are defective._

_But, tell me and be honest now,_

_What really is your objective?_

_..._

_Do you want a piece of paper?_

_Do you want a cheap surrender?_

_Or do you want someone who'll share your life,_

_To love you true and tender?_

_..._

_Because, really Booth there's nothing defective,_

'_Bout a man who cannot wed,_

_Though may just have his soul mate,_

_To spend his life with instead._

_..._

_So, If you can ease up on your own agenda,_

_If you can think outside the square,_

_If you can take a moment to yourself,_

_Take some time now to repair._

_..._

_When you're done, I'll be right here, Booth._

_I'm nowhere if not with you._

_If you'll settle for the non commitment,_

_Of love – simple, strong and true..._

_..._

_If you'll settle for day by day,_

_With reassurance of my devotion,_

_If you'll be content with compromise._

_With lover's strong emotion._

_..._

_If you'll have me and my imperfections,_

_If you swear that it's enough._

_Then maybe one day – we could walk down the aisle,_

_But prepare me – not off the cuff._

Booth slammed the lid of his laptop shut.

It was as if she was talking to him directly. He looked self-consciously around the room – effectively spooked by how pointedly touched he felt.

Did Temperance Brennan really admit to _still_ loving him? Since when did she believe in soul mates, devotion and emotion?

He cursed his insobriety. Booth really, really, really wanted to talk to her but he knew that to add drunk dialling to his long list of misdeeds would amount to the final nail in his coffin.

Besieged with emotion and inebriation, he placed the computer onto the floor and curled up onto the couch. Despite his exhaustion, sleep was a long time coming.

The last verse of the last poem repeated in his mind. It gave him hope yet, his self condemning thoughts kept snuffing it out.

The last deliberation that gripped for authority within his tired mind was that he loved this woman and that she loved him.

That's all that mattered.

oOoOo

**Later that evening...**

Booth sat down hesitantly beside his partner. The moon reflected crisply across the water of the reflecting pool casting a soft illumination over them.

He affectionately bumped his shoulder to hers, "Hey Bones, I thought I'd find you here."

"Hmmm. How are you, Booth?" She spoke over the water, avoiding his stare.

He smiled, "Never been better."

"Oh." She looked down to her hands, "Did you and Hannah resume your sexual relationship?"

He gave a double take, "Wha! No, no Bones, what made you think..."

"Never-mind, Booth, I am happy that you are in a good frame of mind after all that you have had to go through this last fortnight. Did you come here for an update on the case? I left my phone in the car."

Booth sighed, she seemed disheartened somehow and since when did the Dr Temperance Brennan part with her phone? _Safety Bones!_

He had a lot of ground to cover before they got to what they were and where they wanted to be. Booth positioned his body to face her, "Temperance, no, I don't want an update on the case. I just want to... I don't know... sit here... with you."

She looked up at him briefly with a small, shy smile, "Ok."

They sat there for a while – each gaining comfort from the other's presence, her looking over the water and him, looking at her.

"Booth... why are you staring at me?"

Brennan met his adoring gaze and her cheeks pinked under his scrutiny.

"I want to be honest with you, Bones. I haven't been honest with you for quite some time and, to be _honest_..." he smiled nervously at his word stumbling, "I feel like I have... I don't know... I've kinda lost focus on what really matters and _we_ have suffered for it and, for what it's worth, I'm sorry."

"It is worth... a great deal." Her voice was soft.

"What is?"

"Your apology. I'm sorry too Booth. As you are aware, I am not particularly adept at the social requirements of most relationships and I am sorry that I haven't helped you more throughout your breakup with Hannah. I find that I am a little confused as to what my role is in your life now and it is somewhat... wearisome... but, I will deal with it and, I am sure you will notify me if I am not living up to my responsibilities as your partner."

Booth shook his head and reached for her hand, "Bones, about that; I was kinda not thinking straight when I said that. Whether I have said it or not – you have always been my friend – first and foremost. I am sorry that I haven't really lived up to my end of the bargain."

"You needn't to apologise, Booth. You had every right to move on and it is not customary nor socially acceptable for men to maintain strong bonds with women who are not their sexual partner."

She took her hand back and resumed her gaze over the water. "Despite my intentions, I brought it upon myself and, after all is said and done, Booth, I really just want you to be happy..." in the dim light of the moon, he saw a tear make its way down her face, "...that's _honestly_ all I want."

With a finger under her chin, Booth gently turned he face towards him and stemmed the flow of her tears with his thumb.

"Then let me love you Temperance."

She stared wide eyed until she whispered with exasperation, unable to halt the flow of tears, "You really do confuse me, Booth. In what context are you referring to? What do you _want_ me to be?"

"I want..." he looked up to the heavens in silent entreaty, "God, Bones! I want you to be patient with me and not be scared. I want to... I want to be able to explain to you how I feel. How I _love_ you... how I have always love you... how I have lied to myself for the last year –trying to get over you when... when I can't Bones.

"I am sorry for putting you through this, through Hannah. I am sorry if I made you doubt everything that I spent 5 years trying to make you believe. I just... I _love_ you Temperance. If this last year has taught me anything, it's that I would much rather wait forever for you than attempt moving on by ignoring that.

"I want you to be whatever you want to be. I want whatever you will allow us to have with each other but I don't want you to change and I don't want to feel pressured. Ok?"

Sniffling through her tears, Brennan immediately wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed him into a desperate hug. He wasn't sure whether she was laughing or crying when her shoulders began to bob but when she pulled back slightly and saw her breathtakingly radiant smile, he released a breath of relief.

"I want that Booth. I want it _all_ with you."

He gripped the side of her face with tender excitement, and plucked passion filled kisses from her lips, relishing in the reality of the situation.

"I am kissing you..." he pulled her bottom lip into his mouth and released it with a pop, "...and you... you are kissing me back..." Brennan chuckled over his lips as she devoured them, "...and I'm not dreaming..." tasting her tongue, "...when did I get so lucky, Bones?"

She pulled back and smiled, "I don't believe in the notion of luck, Booth, but I do believe in love. I believe in us."

"Promise me you'll remember that when we get round to talking, huh?"

She eyed him suspiciously, "Why Booth?"

He smiled sheepishly as he dove in for another taste of her mouth, "Never-mind, as you were!"

His confession could wait; he had some buttering up to do.

oOoOo

As the "more-than-partners" partners indulged in their new favourite thing they continued oblivious to the excited shouting of a nearby crazy, seemingly intoxicated wader.

Trudging eagerly out of the water he held a flash-light in one hand and a small black ring-box in the other, "Check this out Marleene! It's gotta be at least two karats! Platinum gold! Oh, some pore bugger with be suffering the loss of this one!"

* * *

**Thank you for reading!**

**Please let me know what you thought.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Wow! The response to this was really encouraging! Thank you! This is a little follow up - Brennan's response to the knowledge of Seeley's Sleuthy Snoop. I hope that you enjoy it!**

**I don't own any Bones other than the ones in my body.**

**Please enjoy...**

Booth stumbled wearily out his front door nursing a throbbing tension headache and a coffee to go. He was _not _looking forward to today.

He had confessed to Bones his snoop through her journal the night before.

If they had argued, perhaps he would have been hopeful but they hadn't. Brennan had simply slapped him across the face - instantly bringing back memories of the first case they worked together. She then stormed out – only to ignore all phone calls and texts.

Almost tripping over a purple bloom of Hyacinth and a hand written letter that had been neatly placed on the threshold of his door, Booth strained his tender back and picked up the items.

Breathing in the relaxing scent of the blossom did nothing to calm his raging heart. _Is this it – ended before it began? Dear John – thanks but no thanks?_

He turned back into his apartment and sat his coffee on the table. Sinking dejectedly into his lounge, Booth fingered the lid of the envelope – silently debating whether to open it.

Deciding to roll with the punches, he slipped it open and pulled out the floral letter paper, comforted slightly by the neat cursive of his partner's hand...

_**Dear Booth**_

_How's your face today my sweetheart?_

_Can you still make out a hand-print?_

_I really am sorry I swung so hard,_

_I guess I bag a nasty slap for a squint!_

_..._

_I thought – seeing as through verse I am clearer,_

_It may be prudent to write to you straight._

_I really am sorry for my sudden outburst, Booth._

_Can we please start upon a "fresh slate"?_

_..._

_I was embarrassed and metaphorically stripped,_

_It was entirely pure automatic,_

_I reacted without a thought but shame,_

_And I am embarrassed I was so dramatic!_

_..._

_If I could illustrate my feelings this week,_

_It could be said I felt all four a season._

_I have never felt so... __**ignited**__, Booth,_

_You shattered all thought, rhyme and reason._

_..._

_We really did break laws of physics, huh?_

_I stumble through thought to see how._

_Your touch – it spoke with more conviction than voice,_

_And your tongue... well, phew! Just... WOW!_

_..._

_Then after rewriting the science of matter,_

_After expressing our intimate start,_

_You tell me you crept through my journal,_

_The inner workings of my symbolic "heart"_

_..._

_To be honest, Booth, I'd have shown you anyway,_

_If I'd known it would result in... __**this**__._

_You've completely upended my universe,_

_(Three days of adjusting to bliss)_

_..._

_So, as much as I thought I'd be angry,_

_And it appears reflexively I was._

_More than anything I just feel relief,_

_I feel... comforted and safe because..._

_..._

_Because, despite you knowing my "soul",_

_The deep and dark centre of me._

_Yes, I am naked, stripped and bare as bald,_

_(Of course, you know, not literally)_

_..._

_And even now after you've seen it,_

_After reading of feelings and past,_

_You'll still lay right here beside me,_

_We are together..._

_More than partners..._

_**AT LAST!**_

_**

* * *

**_

Would you like this to continue? Perhaps as they celebrate milestones in their new relationship I could update? If you have any ideas - Please let me know!

Take care and thaks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello again! Wow, this one really got away from me! I hope you can endure to the end!**

**Thank you for reading.**

**I don't own Bones the show. **

Booth rolled tiredly out of bed – regretfully leaving the fragrant warmth of his partner. Her endearing slumberous purrs told him that she wouldn't rise to consciousness anytime soon. While she was in bed before him and Parker the night before, Booth knew that she had been up at sometime during the night because her laptop had been moved from her side of the bed.

Making his way past Parker's room, Booth smiled with the memory of his son's baseball victory the day before. His grin widened when he thought of Bones' excitement. She was ecstatic (as she normally was) but the glisten of tears in her eyes as Parker crossed the plate made his heart swell with affection.

They were a family.

After only six months of being romantically involved with Brennan, Booth felt totally and utterly comfortable. He finally felt like he belonged somewhere and, here, in his apartment – with the love of his life and his son sleeping peacefully in on a Sunday morning, Booth felt at home.

Flicking the coffee maker on, he noticed an envelope perched neatly atop of his coffee cup and smiled. He didn't have to open it to know what it was. These little poems of Bone's were becoming a regular and delightful feature of their relationship.

It was a whole other side of her that he had never known existed – like he had found the key to the secret garden and he was simply captivated.

He sat himself down at the kitchen table and pulled out the now familiar floral writing paper...

**Our Village**

It's instinctual – how I feel,

Around you and your son.

Anthropologically it makes sense to me,

As we are "in it for the long run."

...

Though it's stirring nonetheless,

And it surprises me to say.

I love him like I might my own,

Is it wrong to feel that way?

...

Our unit, though not typical,

Is just wonderful to me.

Awakening feelings long forgotten,

Of belonging... of family.

...

Parker's intelligence – it engages me,

His social grace – I hold in awe.

His affections – they warm my (metaphorical) heart,

His Boothy smile – I just adore!

...

His humour – so well developed,

A genetic present from his father.

He is respectful and well rounded.

And he speaks of you with such great ardour.

...

In sports he's quite adept,

I love to cheer at his events.

And he's so patient at explaining to me,

What each function represents.

...

Though I'm aware it's hardly possible,

I feel my heart overflow with pride,

With the crack of the bat and a flurry of feet,

Making it a run-home with easy stride!

...

Even writing this, it's humorous,

To find tears about to fall.

I never thought I'd so emotional be,

Over a game of under 12's baseball!

...

Lacrimation is quite common though,

As Angela will testify.

The hormonal changes brought about by pregnancy,

Will often make you cry.

...

Yes, I wasn't quite sure how to tell you,

We have conceived, I am with child.

Our village will grow to accept one more,

Or two... or three would be, as Parker says, "wild!"

...

As much as this is my first,

I feel as if I am already a mother.

Because Parker is like a son to me,

He'll make an outstanding big brother.

...

And, so I wanted to reassure "My boys",

That while I'm delighted with this news,

If Parker thinks he will be forgotten,

Then he must be disabused.

...

I know what it's like to be an outsider,

The "third wheel" I believe is the term.

So I need to make it clear right from the start,

We are a family – together we're firm.

...

I know he's worried, because we've spoken.

I reassured him and shared my view.

I believe it helped a little,

But the rest – it must come from you.

...

Now, to other matters not related,

Though not too off the topic.

I've been thinking of another thought,

That's not so microscopic.

...

Unrelated to our embryo,

Though I am sure you'll see a connection,

I'd like to suggest that you marry me,

And, if you have no clear objection,

...

I'd like to proceed before I begin to "show"

Before my gait suggests I'm gestating,

If you know you're in for fifty years,

Then what's the point of waiting?

...

Now, I know your alpha male standards,

May be bruised by my suggestion.

But, if you're amicable to the idea,

Then I put forward a slight deflection...

...

You may pretend that it is _your_ idea,

And propose to me sweet and romantic,

I'll say, "Yes, of course!" I won't say no,

You may make love to me then - hot and frantic.

...

Then when your children enquire,

About how my "heart" you did disarm.

You may regale your grandiose story,

Of how third time is a charm.

...

Of how fate – it intervened

To secure your one true love.

Of how two "No's" were the practice,

To the acceptance here thereof.

...

You may enthral them with wondrous tales,

Of defeating all my fears,

Of convincing their myopic mother,

Of thirty... or forty... or fifty years.

...

And, truly, Booth, you _truly_ have,

You're my hero, you're my white knight.

Because a life without you and your little boy,

Is a world devoid of life, of love and light.

* * *

**Are you still here?**

**Yes? Phew!**

**Please let me know your thoughts. Take care!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you so much for your wonderful reviews! They are truly motivating and I will be responding when my husband goes back to work (I gotta limit my computer time when he's here so he doesn't feel neglected, lol) **

**Well this one's a little different. Apparently, in my fanfic world - Booth's a bit of a poet too. It makes sense to me given his passionate nature.**

**So, I don't own Bones.**

**Please enjoy!**

Temperance Brennan-Booth was gently lulled to the surface of her dreams by the rhythmic, tender stroke of a finger down the side of her face. She breathed in deeply – delaying her sense of sight for a moment more – just so as to enjoy the adoration that vibrated through the distal phalanx of her husband.

Little flutters across her womb brought a contented smile to her face as she redirected his warm touch to her bare, baby swelled belly.

When her eyes finally opened she met the intense stare of chocolate wonderment. A smile creased the teary edges of his eyes and his voice was thick with reverence, "Wow..."

Her palm cupped his cheek and she lightly ran her thumb over his stubble, "You feel it?"

He nodded, too overwhelmed to talk.

"She is very active now – especially at night."

Booth's hand returned to her face and he leaned in, ever so softly taking her lips in his. Setting an easy, breathy pace, he lavished her with kisses – inviting her pleasurably and completely from the depths of her sleep-hazy sloth.

Pinning her easily to the king sized 1000 thread count cotton, his smile veered more toward a charming grin as he loomed predatorily over her naked body, "Good morning beautiful."

She gave a flirty chuckle, "Hi there handsome."

"I got something for you."

"Hmm... I know, I can feel it."

He rolled off her over to the bedside table and grabbed a pad of motel stationery paper, "Yeah, that too, but I..." he looked away sheepishly, "Well, I know you're the author n all but I figured you'd appreciate the effort."

Tentatively he handed her the paper and looked away nervously.

Brennan's lip curved up into a half smile, "What's this?"

He blushed and rolled out of bed "Just read it baby, I'm going to order room service."

**Dear Bones**

Dear Bones, my precious wife,

Well, you've brightened up my life,

Your my wonder-woman, sexy squint, dodger of my knife.

...

My MILF, my hot, _HOT_ Mummy!

I love to squeeze your bummy!

You gift me love – that little "us" who's growing in your tummy.

...

It blows my freaking mind!

- This wonder God designed,

(Despite the fact it must be so, I know you're disinclined ;)

...

But that look upon your face,

Only there by God's sweet grace,

It's a miracle that you are my wife, didn't even think we'd make first base!

...

What I'm sayin sexy Mutha,

Is that for me there is no other,

Even if you say that kissing me is like kissing Russ - your brother.

...

Now, we both know that's not true,

You know well – I'm not a prude ;)

And I intend to spend forever and a day to prove that fact to you!

...

So when you open your sleepy eyes,

On the first day of our married lives,

You'll see me looking straight at you – your spunky, alpha male surprise.

...

Then everyday for evermore,

As my vows so honest swore,

I'll be there Bones, Baby all the way - It's you... I do... ADORE.

;)

* * *

**thank you for reading!**

**Let me know if you like mushy poet Booth ;)**


	5. Touched

**Thank you so much for your lovely reviews and alerts - they absolutely make my spirit soar!**

**So, here's the next poem. Getting into some major fluff people! **

**I do not own Bones**

Brennan felt the warmth of her partner at her back and smiled. She rinsed her sudsy hands under the tap and dried them on the t-towel as his lips trailed up her neck and his hands snuck tenderly over her firm and rounded belly.

"How are my girls?"

An involuntary shiver ran through her body as his breath tickled the sensitive spot just below her ear and her smile widened.

Brennan dropped her head slothfully back onto his shoulder and sighed, "My stomach is restricted... she is protesting quite energetically to my gluttony."

Booth let out a surprised laugh, "You're not wrong, she's putting on quite a show for Daddy!"

He lifted her top up and rubbed gentle circles over her delicate skin. At 38 weeks, Brennan's belly was stretched as tight as a drum and every movement within was a wonder to watch and feel.

"Come to bed – it's time for her belly rub."

The smell of cocoa butter was one Brennan associated with pure relaxation and comfort – just another of a myriad of scents inextricably linked to the hands that lovingly massaged the cream over their growing child.

After his rhythmic ministrations had lulled his daughter into an amniotic slumber, booth replaced Brennan's top and tucked his wife's weary form under the covers.

She hummed an appreciative mewl as he kissed her lips and went to stand.

"Booooth" she drawled sleepily, "I wrote you... top drawer... love you..."

He kissed her again, "Night baby. Love you too."

He found it straight away, he knew what he was looking for and Brennan's bedside drawers were typically organised...

oOoOo

_**Touched**_

_I take pleasure in your skin,_

_Even though that may sound strange._

_Like it's magnetically drawn to me,_

_When we're within an arms-length range._

_..._

_I love your need to touch me,_

_Whenever you are near,_

_To brush my arm or stroke my face,_

_Gentle, soft sincere._

_..._

_It's a steady guarantee,_

_Proof of all you say._

_About love being our constant,_

_How you'll always feel this way._

_..._

_Though I thought I'd find it annoying,_

_As I have done in the past._

_With you it's so much different,_

_It reassures me this will last_

_..._

_When your hand touches that spot,_

_That's reserved for only you._

_That little place upon my back,_

_From where all your touches grew,_

_..._

_When you touch me there – I'm whole,_

_As absurd as that may be._

_It centring and grounding,_

_It's comfortable to me._

_..._

_So now you know the affects,_

_Of your skin upon my skin,_

_And of course you know how I love,_

_Your "Bones reserved" charm grin._

_..._

_Now you know of their importance,_

_Please make this solemn vow,_

_To keep me touched forevermore,_

_For thirty... forty... fifty years from now._

_

* * *

_

**_Too fluffy? _**

**_So, I was wondering - do you guys have any ideas for more poems? Kinda running low on the inspiration. Let me know... drop me a line ;)_**

**Take care!**


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